


All's fair in Love, Blood and Gold

by quotationsovercadence



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Adventure, Betrayal, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Memories, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Relationship(s), Riften, Romance, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quotationsovercadence/pseuds/quotationsovercadence
Summary: Only a small group of assassins in Skyrim know the true identity of the Dragonborn.It's been four years since Alduin's demise and with the war fast approaching it's climax, brotherhood contracts are few and far in between leaving it's Listener restless and in search of ways to make her heart beat faster.





	1. Prologue

 

 

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

  
The sound of water echoed throughout the otherwise quiet tunnels as Denna silently made her way to the Ragged Flagon. It was her first time visiting the small bar beneath the streets of Riften and she was eager to see if it lived up to it's reputation. The sound of raucous laughter could be heard as she neared the final door leading to the underground bar and a small smile came to her face at the sound.

  
She paused at the door and took a deep breath. She noticed her palms were damp under her gloves and quickly removed them. She was nervous.

  
Pushing those thoughts aside, she opened the door and was greeted instantly by the sweet smell of mead and fresh bread. No-one noticed her at first, as she made her way over to the bar that was obviously packed beyond it's capacity. Several patrons hovered at tables set up for gambling. Cards, dice and large piles of gold lined all of the tables. There were clearly a few sore losers but the majority of patrons seemed to be having a good time.

  
She spotted who had to be Delvin Mallory, by the description Astrid had given her and made her way over to his table. She'd met him once, years ago, but so much had happened to her since then, she only vaguely remembered. His table was much smaller, more private than the others around the flagon. Only a man with dark auburn hair and a woman with almost silver hair sat with him. A rather sizable pile of gold sat in the center of the table while the three stared at the cards they held in their hands.

  
"Delvin Mallory?" Her voice was soft as she spoke but loud enough to be heard over the excited chatter of other patrons and the older man looked up, raising his brows immediately and taking in her appearance. He recognized the tight, red and black leather armour that hugged her curves perfectly and some small part of her brain wondered if he still owned his. The only weapons the small woman had was a dark, ebony dagger at each hip. She also carried a small backpack with her, too small to carry much more than food. She clearly preferred to travel light.

  
A smirk crossed his face. "Depends, who's askin'?" he asked, taking a swig of his mead.

  
She fought the urge to roll her eyes at his games. He knew she was brotherhood. After all, he was too. Technically.

  
She gestured to the lone empty chair and asked. "Is this seat taken?"

  
Smirk still firmly in place he responded. "That depends. This for business, or pleasure?"

  
"Business." She responded flatly, sounding almost offended he would ask such a thing.

  
The man immediately turned back to his cards. "I only do business with Astrid." He said evenly, pushing his glasses up his nose. The other man and woman were quiet, silently watching the exchange. A quick glance their way told her that they'd recognized her armour as well.

  
She did roll her eyes at that and sat in the empty chair anyway. "With all due respect, Mister Mallory," one of her delicate hands placed the folded letter from Astrid on the table and slid it to him. "cut the shit. You deal with me now."

  
She heard the woman next to her snicker and Delvin almost looked pissed at her boldness but dropped his cards and picked up the letter anyway and quickly read it. His irritated look melted into a disappointed frown and Denna almost felt sorry for the man. She knew what the letter contained. A rushed apology for breaking off their affair and explaining that Denna would now be the one bringing him valuable items to fence for the brotherhood.

  
Denna shifted in her seat. This was incredibly awkward for her but all she could do was patiently wait for him to read the letter and compose himself. A moment later, his brow creased and he looked at her curiously. "Denna?"

  
She pulled down her hood and mask, releasing her long, golden braid and gave him a small smile and a nod. She wasn't sure he'd remember her. She'd joined the brotherhood only a few weeks before he'd left and took up permanent residence in Riften, and that was six years ago. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before he spoke. "Well, you look... healthy."

  
He did remember her then. How weak and frail she once was. Which meant he also remembered her story, the reason why. But she shoved those thoughts aside before she could begin to think about her past. Her present was what mattered and she'd continue to focus on that.

  
She couldn't stop the blush however but laughed it off as best she could. "Well, I eat now." She said with a small smile.

  
"Glad to hear it. So what have you brought me?"

  
She was glad he was no longer indifferent towards her. She quickly pulled out a small bag of jewelry and dumped it on the table. Various rings, necklaces and gems formed a small pile which Delvin wasted no time digging in to.

  
"This is... a lot more than _Astrid_ usually brings." There was a definite bitterness to the way he spoke her name and again she felt sorry for the man. It wasn't his fault Astrid had a sudden change of heart and ended their relationship.

  
"Yeah, well..." she started with a sigh, absentmindedly toying with the frayed end of her long, blonde braid. "your organization isn't the only one that's seeing rough days."

  
Astrid had filled her inn on how poorly the Guild was doing. You couldn't tell if you were simply sitting in the now packed Flagon. They did a good job hiding it, but she knew the truth of the matter. The Guild was suffering and so was the Brotherhood. Hardly anyone prayed to the night mother anymore, what with the war killing so many, why bother?

  
Delvin scowled at a few of the rings and held up a particularly bloody necklace. "And I'm sure you know it isn't good for the jewelry to have blood caked on it."

  
The assassin rolled her deep, blue eyes at the thief's scolding before another snicker from across the table caught her attention and she locked eyes with the auburn haired man. He wasn't wearing a leather jacket like the other two thieves but she knew who he was. Brynjolf, second in command of the Thieves Guild.

  
Astrid had given her a pretty detailed description of all of the members of the Guild she'd ever come into contact with. His emerald eyes were amused with the two Bretons exchange and she found herself smiling at him. He returned it warmly before the sound of Delvin clearing his throat pulled her attention away from the roguishly attractive nord, her cheeks slightly reddening.

  
"Well, I'll tell you what." Delvin started scribbling on a piece of parchment he'd pulled from his dark leather jacket. "I'll take the lot. But next time, at least attempt to clean them off first." He folded the small paper and slid it across the table to the tiny Breton who quickly stuffed it into her jacket.

  
She rose from her chair with a small smile and a nod to the other two who were still watching the exchange. "I'll see you again soon, Mister Mallory."

  
"Please, Denna. You're making me sound like an old man with that shit. Just Delvin is fine." He gave her a hard look over the frame of his small glasses and she managed to suppress a giggle. Though, the corner of her mouth did turn up a bit.

  
"Delvin." she repeated with a small nod and the trio watched the small woman make her way back through the crowd, fixing her blonde hair into her hood and lifting her mask as she went. In less than a minute she'd made it to the large door and slipped out of the Flagon, making her way home.

  
.

  
A few seconds of silence passed between the three before the silver haired woman spoke. "Well, I like her!" She said animatedly.

  
"She certainly is a looker." Brynjolf commented and Delvin fixed him with a hard glare.

  
"Don't get any ideas, Brynjolf. I'm in enough shit with Astrid as it is. I don't need you causing more problems for me by trying to screw the Listener."

  
His comrades eyes went wide at the revelation but Delvin simply ignored them and drained the rest of his bottle of mead before picking his cards back up to resume their game. He'd never admit it, but it stung to have Astrid cut their relationship off like that. He deserved better. After all, she had another to fall back on. He only had the Guild.

  
"The Listener? Her?" Vex asked, incredulously.

  
"Aye."

  
"Damn." Brynjolf muttered to himself as he studied his own cards again. Listener or not that small Breton was the most beautiful lass he'd seen in a long while, and he was definitely looking forward to seeing her again. 


	2. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denna falls into simple trap.

“Hold there.”

The tall guard in burgundy commanded as she approached the city gates. She stopped in front of him as he continued, “Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor’s tax.”

Denna placed her hands on her hips with a heavy sigh. “This again? You tried that the last time I came here. And the time before that. And the time before that.” She pointed out, throwing back her hood, her deep blue eyes narrowed into slits to show her irritation. Brynjolf had a pretty good idea with the phony tax, the problem lied in the idiots he picked to carry it out. They had the memory of a damn mudcrab.

 

“I didn’t realize it was you.” The guard mumbled to himself and pulled the gate open for her to pass through.

With a dramatic roll of her deep blue eyes, she stepped around the guard and entered the city, the hem of her black robes silently gliding over the fresh snow as she walked unaware of the guard’s stare at the delicate curve of her backside.

Denna scowled and pulled her robe tighter around her. She hated snow. It was cold, stuck to everything and when it melted it became a mess. The night before, there wasn’t a snowflake in sight. Yet when Denna woke at first light and emerged from the Vilemyr Inn, she scowled at the thick blanket of white covering the small town of Ivarstead and her already sour mood had worsened. 

Traveling from Falkreath hold to Riften only took four days if you went through Haemar’s Shame in the mountain pass. So that’s exactly what she did. Unfortunately, that meant traveling right through Ivarstead and passing the stone path leading up the Seven Thousand Steps she once took a dozen or so times to see the Greybeards. 

The Greybeards. 

The monks that spent their lives up at High Hrothgar, studying the way of the voice and worshiping the goddess Kynareth. Denna was not on good terms with them and didn’t have plans to change that any time soon. She thought they were cowards, they thought she was a monster. They devoted their lives to a peaceful worship of the skies and she devoted hers to her dread family. They were polar opposites and at the very moment of Alduin’s demise, she was banished from their temple. That suited her just fine though, she’d take the deep green forest over the freezing mountain every time.

It didn’t take long for her to make her way to the center of the city, where the shopkeepers manned their stalls, trying their best to attract customers despite the frigid cold of mid morning. It was at one of these stalls where Denna spotted a familiar mop of deep red hair. As she made her way closer, the nord’s tired face came into view as he sat, eyes closed on a crate behind his stall, rubbing small circles into his temples.

 

“Rough night?” 

The nord lifted his head at the sound of her voice and noticing it was her, a warm smile overtook his features. “Aye. But it seems to be getting better.” She was smirking at him but he saw her cheeks, already pink from the cold, take on a deeper shade of red.

“You’re early” he pointed out.

She crossed her arms and leaned against his stall with a sigh. He was right, it had been four months since the arrangement with Delvin had been established and while she tried to keep her visits to once a month, she wasn’t always successful. Her last visit was only three weeks ago and here she was again with a bag full of jewelry she’d swiped from a noble’s house on impulse.

“I know,” she said with a frown. Truthfully, she hadn’t used her blade in months. Any time the night mother spoke to her, the job went to the other members of her family. 

“Business still slow?” the nord pressed and for a moment her frown deepened before she responded. 

“A bit of an understatement, that. By the way, your man at the gate approached me again.” 

“Again? By the gods…” he trailed off, irritation clear in his tone. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll deal with it.” She nodded and made to leave when he spoke again. “Del isn’t in town right now.” The woman’s face fell immediately. If there was one thing she hated more than snow, it was being idle. The last thing she needed was to be spending her already limited funds on commodities while she waited for him to return. “We expect him back in two days time.”

“Damn it,” she cursed her poorly timed visit while she quickly weighed her options. “Guess I’ll be staying in town a while then.” It wasn’t like she had anything else to do she reminded herself while inspecting the state of her fingernails.

“In that case,” the nord purred in his deep accented voice, catching the bretons attention as she turned to face him completely. “Let me buy you a drink. Tonight.” 

The effect of his suggestion was immediate. The fair skin of her face gave way to a deep blush that started in her chest and went to the tips of her ears. 

It wasn’t that she’d never been approached by a man before, she definitely had while frequenting the inns in towns when she was working, just never in the way he did it. He was an attractive man, with his deep green eyes that reminded her of the forests she loved and his auburn hair that complimented his strong cheekbones and the stubble of his jaw that was always present. But it was his voice, his smooth voice and strong accent that formed words that were satin to her ears. While she hadn't craved a man’s touch since the naive desire's of a girl growing into a woman, whenever she conversed with the Guild’s second, she be lying to herself if she denied wondering if he would be different. 

Not in any particular hurry to find out the answer to that question she shoved those thoughts aside. But not seeing any reason to refuse his offer she nodded. “Alright. One drink.” 

 

A dashing smile crossed the nord’s face. “Excellent, lass. Meet me here when the shops close and I’ll escort you.” 

They briefly bid each other goodbye and with nowhere else to be, Denna made her way to the inn for a room and a hot meal. 

.

Several hours and a bath -so hot it nearly burned her skin- later she stepped out of the warmth the inn provided and walked the short distance to Brynjolf’s stall in the market. The snow had hardened during the day and the soft crunch of it giving way beneath her shoes alerted Brynjolf to her approach. When she reached his stall she was greeted by a most handsome smile. She noticed he was in his guild leathers and it peaked her interest as to why. Perhaps he had just returned from a job, or maybe he was headed off to one when they finished their drinks. 

“Evening lass,” the red-head offered while holding out his arm for her to take. “Shall we then?”

She hesitated for a moment but eventually took his offered arm and let him guide her out of the market. They chatted briefly while they walked. Mostly Brynjolf was interested in what she’d been doing since they parted ways in the morning. He was every inch the gentleman in his guild leathers as he was out of them and while she found it odd, it seemed natural and she couldn’t picture him any other way.

They reached their destination a few moments later and Brynjolf released her arm only to open the door and nodded for her to go before him. Taking a note of the shop’s name before entering she turned towards the auburn haired thief as he entered behind her. “Black Briar Meadery?” she questioned. “Sounds expensive.”

He grinned right at her. “No worries lass, I happen to know the owner personally.”

She smirked back at him. “Of course you do.”

She let him lead her to a table in the back corner of the meadery, away from prying ears. As they settled in their chairs, they were approached by a dark elf who inquired about their order. Not having been to the establishment before she allowed Brynjolf to take the lead and order for them. “A bottle of reserve and a lavender wine for my friend here.” With a nod, the elf disappeared to fill the order and his eyes returned to the woman who now wore a confused expression.

“Lavender wine?” she inquired, arching a brow.

“It’s new. You’ll like it.” He said confidently.

“How could you possibly know that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“You don’t like alcohol that doesn’t taste good. Favoring a floral taste over a fruity or spiced one. Am I right?”

The dark elf returned with their drinks just then and he uncorked his bottle and drank deeply, draining half it’s contents while she sipped experimentally at the purple-ish liquid in her goblet. Much to her immense surprise, Brynjolf’s order was dead on and deciding that she liked it, she began taking larger sips.

“So?” 

Realizing that he was still waiting for an answer she set her goblet down and laced her fingers together in her lap before meeting his eyes. “You were right.” she confirmed and he nodded, pleased with himself. “But how?”

He leaned forward then and spoke in a low voice. “It’s all about sizing up your mark lass. The way they walk, what they’re wearing, how they carry themselves. It’s a dead giveaway.” 

“You were sizing me up?” she realized, feeling her muscles tense reflexively. “Why?”

“Simple. I have a proposition for you.” He stated blankly before leaning back in his chair and taking another swig from his bottle.

She frowned immediately. “I’m not a mercenary Brynjolf. If you want my services you’ll have to go through the proper channels.”

“Oh, no.” he stated, waving his hand in a dismissive fashion. “Nothing like that.”

“What then?” 

“Well, lass. Word is, your outfit isn’t doing so well.”

“What does that have to do with-”

“Ever try your hand at stealing?” 

She bit her lip and glanced around the room. The other patrons at their own tables were oblivious to their hushed conversation, too engrossed in their own to care. The bag of jewelry she’d stashed under the floor boards in her room at the Bee and Barb appeared in her mind and she knew, without a doubt, that Brynjolf knew she had.

She took a deep breath and lifted her goblet, swirling the liquid once before sipping the delicious drink. Setting the goblet down she met his eyes again. “Killing is what I do, Brynjolf. It’s what I’m good at.”

“That’s not all you do.” It was stated as fact, one that she could not deny.

“Desperate times. Nothing more.” Did he really want her to work for the Guild? Her family was the Brotherhood. They’d protected her, taken her in and trained her when the world had forsaken her. It felt like betrayal.

“Why not make it official?”

Her brow creased and her eyes fell to the table between them while she considered his words. A single candle burned in the center, it’s wax dripping onto the table while the flame danced slow and methodically. 

“Look,” he started, sensing her upcoming refusal. “I know you have other obligations. I’m simply offering an alternate means for whenever you find yourself with an abundance of free time. Like now, for instance.”

“I’ll… think about it.” She said finally before taking the last few sips of her goblet. “Excellent.” A smile crossed the nord’s face before he drained the rest of his bottle. “Shall we then?” Tossing a small bag of coins on the table he stood and she followed his lead as they left the establishment. They were welcomed by a frigid breeze when they stepped out of the Black Briar Meadery and Denna pulled her black robe a little tighter around herself to keep the cold at bay.

“Here.” The nord was half shrugged out of his leather jacket when she turned to his voice. “Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Come now lass, you’ll freeze before we make it to the inn.” 

She would have protested further but he’d already placed the jacket around her shoulders and by the gods was it warm. His musky scent filled her nose while she pushed her arms through the too big sleeves but she found that she didn’t mind. It was a rather nice smell and her cheeks reddened from the gesture.

She thanked him and they made their way to the Bee and Barb making pleasant conversation. He didn’t bring up the guild again save for when they parted. He told her to find him in the flagon the following day if she was interested in his offer and bid her goodnight at the door to the inn. It wasn’t until she returned to her room and closed the door, leaning against it that she realized that she was still wearing his jacket.

She’d been so distracted by his charms that she didn’t realize he’d lured her into a trap. Rather than irritation, a smile crossed her face and she shook her head. 

“Well played, Brynjolf.”


End file.
